"Harvard Comes To Montana" - Chapter Thirty-Nine
By Griz
umgriz@protonmail.com
Hi, Friends;
I've missed you. It's not enough to say to you, but right now, it's all I can.
Some of my new friends here have asked if any of my old friends in Fergus County know about this story.
Yes. Some. Three, to be exact. They're in the story, and seem fairly content to see what their alter-egos will be doing in future chapters. One of them commented that I made him sound too witty and conversational. Another wants me to make him (his twin character, actually) more sexually prolific (as if that could be possible). The third friend remains amazed I'm actually literate, but is himself an actual asshole himself (love ya, you insensitive, practical joke-playing, whiner).
*** The following story is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under the age of 18 or if this type of fiction is prohibited in the location where you are reading this, do not read any further.
All characters and names are creations of the author. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Please show your support for Nifty, a great organization that gives opportunities to all types of authors to express themselves. To find out how you can contribute, go to donate.nifty.org/donate.html ***
We all ate cake. Marie Antoinette would be relieved to know it. Auntie P and the Sangers got along well. She commented that the Sangers would make friends easily in Hill County, and she would be happy to make introductions around the area. While not exactly negotiating, they did arrive at an approximate week for Jon and Kelly to drive to Hingham to meet the current tenants. Trace and Toby wanted to hang back until the time came to actually move, and wrap up some of Toby's existing contracts in Central Montana. Toby already had a couple of young guys interested in the guild, and had communicated with him about apprenticing with him. Humble as is his nature, he doesn't exactly advertise his Master Farrier certification and unique designation as the first American fellow in the European `Fellows of the Worshipful Company of Farriers', an organization (and almost secret society) dating to 1356.
Toby loves horses and is one of the best diagnosticians for equine podiatrical concerns in the Rocky Mountain states. Folks call him more and more to come look at their steeds' hooves before calling the vet. He's kind of a midwife for horses; he'll see if the problem is something he can obviously fix himself, and then often will---saving vets a lot of time and the ranchers a lot of money. Toby also loves Trace, and will go where his man goes; even if it's in a hail-damaged RV to the Montana Highline and all the fertile, irrigated soil the four of them will nurture crops in and harvest together. I can't say this exactly, and shouldn't even say it approximately, but: when Jon told Trace he had something for him to `give his cowboy', I think there's a fair trade in expectation: maybe more kids for Kelly and Jon to fuss over, and make use of those three boxes of BandAids. They'll figure it out. We all will, although Tommy and K got a jump start on us.
Mom had several folders in her backpack on the ground by her chair.
"Jon, Kelly; join Patty and me in the house for a moment, okay?"
They smiled, and the four of them rose to get some ink on paper. Eva stood to join them.
"I need to get my notary stuff out of my car; I'll be there in a moment!"
Wait----she slings coffee, bakes everything, buys buildings, hires people, and is also a notary public?! The list of things Eva CAN'T do is getting shorter by the moment. She ran off to her car, got her backpack, and ran into the house. She looked happy. Clearly something she and Mom had discussed, because even my big brother had a bewildered look on his face. Those of us who remained decided to love up on the puppies and give Lola Cola one last run around the yard for the night. Ty had Max by his chair through dinner, and once Mama Dog was released to run, Max went with her. They were friends, reunited and bouncing around playfully. O.C., yet again, stood sentinel while the rest of us picked up a puppy to care for. Ty was pleased with their progress.
"Well, they look like their father....."
Aleksy snorted.
"They look like their mother! Bernese are Bernese!"
Ty laughed, but shook his head.
"To be honest, I kinda fell asleep while they were supposed to be together. For all I knew, that damned Dachshund from next door got out of its kennel and decided to pay a friendly visit. I was relieved to see baby Bernese when we got here."
We all EWWW!!!'ed at the thought of a Bernese-Dachshund cross. Toby decided to be charming (or should I say, more charming').
"Tommy and Kristi's kid will never been `EWWW!!'ed at. You're gonna have good-looking kids."
The rest of us agreed, which turned both my boy and my girl all sorts of red. I could see Tommy's face, though.....he liked the attention and continued acceptance Kristi received from everyone. He had nothing to be worried about; K was born in the right place and time, just so she and Tommy could meet and create their own wonderful family together. He had shared a couple of texts with me over the past few days that indicated he had concerns for Kristi's family and church community. Maybe not concerns for them, but about them; and how their reaction might affect his and K's relationship. I had nothing to offer Tom but my own continued love-and-support-on-overtime-and-overdrive for all of them, regardless what they might or might not receive from K's folks. I hoped it would not be as much an issue as we feared, but we were dealing with people we didn't really know, who didn't know us at all, and no one understood anyone or anything.
It's a kid. An innocent (really) little kid. What is there not to love about someone who arrives on the scene with only hunger and thirst, bringing with it no ill will toward anyone (Damien, Rhoda Penmark or Rosemary's Baby excluded)?
The five of `em were in the house for at least twenty minutes, but no one in the yard was complaining. We all got puppy time, and Max and Lola Cola had plotzed down beneath the big tree together, acting close and affectionate. I liked seeing that. She won't bear another litter, but Lola Cola would be a good friend to Max and a good mother to their kids. Ty took the opportunity to stand and thank Aleksy and me for being included in dinner. He already had a hotel room, and hearing that, Marc graciously offered Ty the key to the house in town.
"You sure? That's generous of you!"
"I'm sure. There are three bedrooms. Take the one closest to the living room; the bed's all freshly made up. You can leave the key on the kitchen counter; just lock the door before leaving. Coffee and cream in the fridge, but honestly, you can't do better than `Common Grounds' across the highway from our turn-off. Make yourself at home, though; have whatever you want in that fridge."
"Wow.....you are sure an interesting, generous and welcoming family. Max could not be anywhere better."
Aleksy walked Ty to his rig, and after a laugh and a handshake, Ty drove off toward town. I looked to see Max' reaction, but he didn't even notice. He was busy getting to know his kids. Oh---and O.C. had both eyes on their dad. Max had a very high bar to get over.
The wind from the West reminded us the day was drawing to a close. Patty and Eva came out of the house and returned to the table. Eva stood beside Aleksy, and damn, they looked perfect together. Soon, Mom, Jon and Kelly walked out, too. Mom was smiling. She looked.....relieved, I think. She was part of an arrangement for a long-term future she would likely not see, or perhaps even recognize.
"Everyone; our heartiest welcome and congratulations to the new managers of the Hingham farm!"
We all cheered and applauded, and both Jon and Kelly looked pleased, but slightly embarrassed due to the recognition. They would not be doing it alone. They couldn't; Toby and Trace were no less lauded by the whistles and applause. Honestly, had it been me, I'd have included at least Trace in the contract talks in the kitchen, and Tommy, too. Still.....it was done. Jon and Kelly weren't losing their farm to the bank. My boy and I would farm the Sanger farm as well as Farm W. From everyone at the table came a sigh of relief. The day was a win-win-win-win-win and probably more I'm forgetting. Mom looked at Aleksy and me.
"Monday morning, the five of us will go into town and take care of the other transaction at the bank. You know what? I'd like all of us here crowding into that office when we give further proof that neighbors and family are what start and sustain any community, and that banks and bankers are a convenient contingency plan only."
We all smiled, but I suspected Marc would have other concerns of his own to manage. He said earlier there were `developments'. Something else to love about my man: he knew we had big things going on that week, and didn't compound anything with his own things, big or small. He'd tell me something was up, but unless it impacted us at that very moment, he kept things on a low simmer.
I looked toward Mom's direction and asked (I hoped) with subtlety if she could smell anything since the Rye had been harvested. She smiled only barely and said she could not. That was it; no shots to seal that deal. I suspected not, since this was Patty's and Mom's arrangement. Aleksy and I are not legally part of the Hingham farm's operation or holding, after all; and drinking Rye after closing a deal or settling on something was Dad, Mom and me. Tomorrow, though.....paying off the Sanger Farm's mortgage would pretty much drain the bottle in the pantry office. I hoped we would have enough shot glasses for everyone. Heh.....if not; we still had Great-Grandpa's little orange juice glass that he drank everything out of, regardless of chemical composition or quantity.
The evening came to a close when we saw both the bats and Barni out flying around. We feasted, and now it was their turn. Tommy, Trace and Toby gathered the chairs and then collapsed the table. Lola and Max were lying by their kids, each of them grooming the little future not-little dogs. OC sat on his padded perch, the Sphinx Of Fergus County (except OC has a nose). Aleksy started off to get more water and kibble for them, and led Max to his stall in the barn. The most easy-going of large breed dogs, he just ambled along, sniffing everything new brought to his nose by way of the west wind. Thus far, he was nesting well here.
Team Sanger, all six-point-zero-five of them, made their good-byes and, all smiles and laughter, returned to their buggies for the rides home. Tail lights, dust and waves from arms out of windows carried with them my shouts of Congratulations again!'. How two situations resolved in everyone's favor would be something I'd tell my own great-grandchildren: no one loses' land. The care of it is transferred from one loving family to another. People to care for other land aren't `lost', either; new folks come, and bring with them fresh perspectives and an enduring respect for the land's history, and the methods used to farm it thus far. The game never ends; we just rotate new players on and off the field. Ours is a simple business, really; plant seeds, water them, harvest the results. Repeat 130 times, year-in, year-out. Nothing really changes but commodity prices and, with time, the names of new generations who'll try, yet again, to get that old tractor through another season.
Aleksy returned from the barn, and Max did have something to say about his new quarters, after all. I chose to imagine creatively Max' lament:
"Hey! HEY!!! Apex Predator Human! Why are you leaving me with these two very large dogs with funny heads?! Why can't I be with the little woman and the kids?? COME BACK! HEEEEEEYYYYYY!!!"
Lola Cola was always gonna get the last word.
"Quiet! You'll wake the children! If you do, then YOU can come stay in here, and I'll take the stall! I've been in there before and liked it, and Bolt and Stan are good company! You have nipples, and even though they don't `work', the kids don't know that----and you won't be able to get away!!!"
Well, regardless of who said what, the only animal sounds that followed were from Eva, Marc, Aleksy and me. We stood beneath the yard light, which had been on already for about 30 minutes. Now it was attracting moths and millers as if they were going to see a drive-in movie. Unbeknownst to them, there were no treats at the concession stand. They were the treats, for hungry bats. Eva was complimented on her cake and bread, and we all wondered what other capacities she worked in. A notary public, we now knew. I'd have to check out the menu sign at Common Grounds' to see if the Daily Special was notary stamps and signatures: buy three, get the fourth one free!' I stopped being surprised about anything in Fergus County that Summer.
After a few observations from dinner and laughs that followed (Jon was loving the chicken so much, he ate an entire bird himself), we were nudged along with the breeze from around the barn. Everything looked right. Everything that day went right. The Hingham Farm would have new tenants in another month. Tommy and K had some vows to write for Saturday, and the house in town had its first guest---with no one there to make Ty truly welcome. He seemed like a good guy, and the way he and Aleksy picked up where they left off almost a month ago made me happy, knowing my big brother did not exist only in his condo or classroom.
Mom was in the kitchen, sitting at the table and writing a grocery list. She smiled when we all walked in.
"That was fun and productive. We can still throw parties that everyone leaves full of food and empty of laughter. May it always be thus."
We took turns saying our good-nights to Mom. Eva wanted to cover something with Mom, so Aleksy, Marc and I headed toward the stairs. Before we could say anything, Max' basso-profundo bark silenced everything and everyone in the barnyard. A moment later, Lola Cola responded, and Max confirmed with something quite a lot quieter, and all returned to crickets, frogs and an owl. Poor OC.....being left out of a discussion about the pups----because what else would the parents be talking about----probably did not settle him in well for a nap before it was time to go out and get his own dinner. Disturbed sleep visits every living critter on Farm W, at least once a night. Someone always gets The Last Word as the current day passes into history and the new day in the future races to us.
At the top of the stairs, Aleksy yawned and stretched, offering Marc and me a mumbled, grumbled goodnight'. We laughed in response and stopped at our bathroom to prepare for sleep. Well.....to prepare for bed, anyway. We were tired, and didn't get a king bed just to make Grace and James quake in fear of what mortal sins might be committed while we're on it. I wanted to help them realize their fears were well-founded, and my ass well-pounded. Not just that, though. Marc and I could love each other in our sleep, too. Ready for consciousness to escape us, arms wrapped around each other, backs pulled to chests, legs twisted together; and all following some smiles and pillow talk. Inevitably, something logical and reasonable would descend into quieter and less-intelligible somniloquies'.
"Babe, that chicken was delicious. You're challenging my resolve to stay a vegetarian."
"Chickens aren't vegetarians, Marccccc.....sowhyshouldwebeeee....."
"Oh, you're getting adorable.....I need to record this so our grandchildren can listen to you talking in your sleep....."
"Heh.....'grandparentsszzz'..... Gotta get them some gummy bears and little bootsssss....."
No doubt we've had real conversations like that imagined one. What I like most, though, is the last thing I experience: Marc's kiss and warm breath on the back of my neck. My man is with me in our bed, in our room, on my farm and in my life.
4:30 rolled around and I rolled carefully and as un-disturbingly out of the embrace as possible that Marc still held me in, six hours later. I replaced myself with the pillow my head had occupied, and Marc pulled it against his chest and mumbled something in a language he was in the very process of inventing. I padded off to the bathroom, happy that only months before, I'd identified and repaired the squeaking floor boards of the long hallway upstairs. Not that it mattered then; Dad and Mom were up before I was, so who could I disturb, anyway? Now, though: Marc, Mom, Aleksy and Eva in a house more and more silenced by well-placed and even better-pounded nails. They deserved to sleep in. 4:35 comes soon enough.
I washed my face again and examined it for any sign I'd been in a coma for 35 years. Apparently I had not been, so I drained my bladder which felt, however, as if it had been sleeping impatiently for decades. I'd imbibed on iced tea and lemonade, and not just to be polite to Marc for his new bartending efforts. The evening was filled with friends and laughter, and an unspoken but definitely-felt sense of relief that the Sangers had a better---and well-deserved---future on the Hingham farm, and with their departure from Fergus County to Hill County with no debt to the bank. When Mom, Auntie P, Eva, Jon and Kelly walked back outside after signing contracts inside, at least four eyes were red and moist with tears of joy. Seeing their parents happy made Trace and Tommy react the same way. Those boys do their parents proud. Being happy and relieved can make a farmer thirsty, and that morning I began falling back asleep while waiting for the stream to finally stop. Note to Self: pace yourself while drinking. It's the first lesson most university freshmen learn, and yeah, typically in the morning. At least I was standing and not kneeling before the (shall we say) `porcelain appliances'.
Once finished, I walked quietly back to the room. Marc was now on his back, arms extended from his sides, doing his best Corcovado imitation (he was definitely the much hotter version), but still asleep. My pillow, myself by proxy, had been cast carelessly to the floor by the bed. I picked it up and pretended to hold it with the intention of smothering my man. If you watch `One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest' enough times, you pick up a thing or two. Nah.....gotta keep him around.....we'll need him when it comes time to plant the Winter wheat.
I tried most sincerely to be quiet, but Marc sensed my presence, and stirred slightly.
"What're you doing up there? You're supposed to be down here with me."
"I know that and you know that, but the chickens, horses, livestock and dogs and a certain cat do not know that. If I don't get up before they do, then they'll be up before me, and then they run the farm. It's a slippery slope from animal husbandry to animal domination of farmers. One book about clever animals was enough."
"Oh, yeah; `Charlotte's Web'....."
"I don't think George Orwell wrote `Charlotte's Web'. Unless, perhaps, he got into the psilocybin mushrooms, also which I may or may not be cultivating in the equipment barn beneath some old lumber....."
"Did the chickens get into those? When I ate Marie's breakfast the last time I was here, I saw pretty colors and talked to god. Damn, is SHE pissed off, and did you know, looks a lot like Whoopi Goldberg?"
"I kinda wondered.....I watched you eating that omelette, and heard you humming some Pink Floyd selections. It was the heartbeat and ticking clock sounds that had the rest of us enrapt by you."
"I hope we're both asleep and just dreaming that....."
"We're not, and since you're awake, either get up and make coffee, or just lie there and see just how minty-fresh an early morning blowjob can feel."
"I'm making coffee only every other day, you know. Today is not that day."
"I did not know. Since when?"
"Since it became the less compelling choice for starting my day. Fuck Folgers in my cup'; I want Fergus on my cock'."
"Somewhere in there is a `please and thank you', Marc....."
"You can say those later, Babe. After your mouth has exhausted its talents."
"Wait....."
"KIDDING. Yawwnnnn.....okay. I'm awake. Babe, I like the way your mind works. Well, I like how all of you works. Let's settle in early this evening so I can love all of you, too. Or at least the first five inches."
"Heh.....I can deny my man nothing."
I leaned down to kiss Marc, which he kept chaste, since he had not yet brushed. I get it; he's being polite, and I appreciate that. He had told me early on that he brings excellent hygiene, and is not shy about expecting it, too. Throughout any given day in Summer months, I am breaking every rule about staying fresh and clean', but that's only because the work we do is in the dirt, so we get dirty. And smelly. When the day is over, though, and typically before dinner, we start over, too. Clean bodies, clean clothes, full bellies, full bed. Literally and figuratively: wash, rinse and repeat', day in, day out.
Marc was soon standing, and jammie bottoms on, he went off to take care of his morning routine. I straightened up the bed, found the clothes I wanted to wear, and dressed. Marc returned from the bathroom, showered and smelling good. He brought in some humidity with him as the moisture evaporated from his skin. Before Marc could put a shirt on, I walked right up against him and snuggled against the warm, damp soft curls on his chest and belly, also nuzzling the side of his furry face with my own. In our embrace, Marc's hands moved to my ass, and he kneaded them firmly.
"Jozef, there isn't a day we're together that I don't feel we fit just right, and there isn't a day we're apart that I don't wish you were with me, like you are now. You bring me love, passion and understanding. Acceptance, empathy and respect. The gifts you share with me, only a few of many, make getting out of bed to be with you the first highlight of any day."
"You speak waving wheat, fluffy clouds and pleasant evenings, Boyfriend. Your words evoke the same feeling for me as those things do. You might write History, but you speak Love, and I'm all the better for both of those."
"Babe, later this evening, we should talk some History, or the writing of it. I hinted at a new development, and I'd like to hear your thoughts on it."
"Yeah, of course. I'm not sure how this works at the bank, but essentially, we're paying the debt, and buying Jon and Kelly's farm in a cash sale equal to the debt. Mom says the attorney will be at the bank, too. Do you want to be there?"
"No, actually. I'm happy to be included, but I need to organize my thoughts around this development so you and I can discuss it. If you're okay with this, would you actually give me the day so I can work? Come in early for dinner; say, 6:00 PM? I'll have something for us to drink and nibbly stuff, and then make some.....'thing'. No chicken, Chicken! Heh.....that was so funny! Trace and Toby have a strong relationship dynamic going on, and are fairly worldly for two farm boys. Sure turned Tommy red! You could've zapped that chicken all done in five minutes with the infrared heat your boy was giving off!"
"Yeah, I thought about that through dinner, actually. Not so much about being a younger gay guy with a more mature man; we're not really very far apart in age. Mostly, I was thinking about how comfortable the five of us were, just hanging out without all of us knowing each other very long. Well, except for my mom and me. I'm getting to know my big brother all over again." "
I feel the same way with Marie, Aleksy and Eva; just.....deeply comfortable and familiar with them. Like all of you would ask me to do anything, and allow me to request in kind. There might be limits along the way, but there aren't any barriers to finding out what they are."
"I'd say that adequately sums us up, Marc. And by `us', that includes you in all of Team W. We only realize something or someone has been missing when we finally find them or they find us. Then we realize there's another piece joining the puzzle, and the picture is looking better and better, all the time. Eva and Aleksy came back, each of them separately, but also together, like they started to years ago. Then one morning, you and I couldn't sleep. You went running so you wouldn't disturb your family's rest, and I went for a drive for essentially the same reason. You and I were awake for each other, Boyfriend. We just had to figure out when to meet and where we were supposed to. And I'm no Fatalist. At least not until someone can prove the science to me."
"Yeah, you talk a good game about the sciences, logic, reason and evidence, but you're a dorky romantic, deep down. Like this morning when you were going to suffocate me with that pillow, but you just couldn't do it, could you?"
"Wait.....you saw that?"
"Sure did. You might not realize it, but when you came back from cleaning up in the bathroom, your essence arrives to the room before you do. Your motions and movements create little currents in the air, carrying your scent, body temperature and----ill intentions. You gently pull me from sleep without saying a word or even touching me. Really though, Jeffrey; a pillow?? It's been done! I'm sure you can be a lot more creative!"
"Hmmm.....I'll work on that. Maybe watch some more Jack Nicholson movies. What did your academy fellows do to be devious?"
"Not much. Ours was a preparatory academy. Graduates went on to Ivy League schools, or at least many of them did. It was very competitive in Admissions at those schools. No matter how much fun could be had from trying to get away with something, the threat of not getting into Brown or Columbia was enough to make `fun' an anemic four letter word. I knew exactly where I wanted to go, which was not the Ivy Highway. Seattle University knew I existed, and they stayed on me so I wouldn't forget them. It worked well, and due to the work I did for the previous twelve years of school, I qualified for a full ride scholarship----much to the dismay of my parents. They did not like having to discuss me being on scholarship when they could've just bought Seattle U, themselves. The nice thing about that school: you're expected to get up to hi-jinx and enjoy being a kid while also pulling 4.0 GPAs for the sake of grad school. Truly: I had a blast at the academy, and even more of one at Seattle U."
"So; what were Marcus Tyler Taylor's `hi-jinx'? Staying up past curfew? An imperfect knot on the school uniform tie?"
"Nothing as obvious as that; purely amateur stuff, those things. I misbehaved in a way that made the teachers want to remember it. I'd challenge established theories, and studied plausible contradictions to what had been accepted canon. I'd make the studies even more outlandish, contriving entirely fabricated stuff in my feverish, fantastical mind. I knew I could convince at least some of my fellow students that I knew what I was talking about, and on an occasion or two, my teachers were actively interested in the bullshit I was shoveling. Of course, they'd find out soon enough I was just playing. By the time it was all finished, I was congratulated on being a complete knave, and one who was devious and clever with facing a bright future as a defense attorney for Rudy Giuliani, or living in a dark basement, authoring conspiracy theories for the faint of mind and character."
"Not `faint of heart'?"
"People who believe conspiracy theories, whether mine or their own, have no hearts. Just a deep pit of perpetual disappointment where a heart should be. Don't get me started on their brains."
"Ummm.....you don't DO that, though.....do you? I mean, create or perpetuate myths?"
"No. The folks who take conspiracy theories and other myths seriously are the ones who laugh the least at Life---and themselves. That's okay, though; I'll laugh at them. The end result is the same: they're getting laughed at, for better or worse."
Laughter, I was learning, was as complex a reaction as Marc was a man. Among my first memories were cartoons, and how dissimilar to each other they are. Mickey, Minnie, Donald and other Disney characters got laughter from my Toddler self because they.....delighted me. They weren't real; any three-year-old knows the people in their family have ears that stay in one place, regardless of the head's position. Disney cartoons didn't challenge any mind, young or old, to do anything but be passively entertained.
My last day in my high school was the culmination of a lifetime's education thus far. I think it formally began, though, the day I discovered Bugs, Daffy, Elmer and the rest of the cast of Looney Tunes. It was similar entertainment, but whereas Disney was just cute and funny, Warner Brothers was thought-provocative. Sure, laughs were to be had; but the price of admission to a Looney Tunes show was critical thinking, particularly in reference and context. Disney played it safe, and satirized nothing and no one; while across town at the other studio, nothing and no one were safe from writers and artists who took no prisoners with their talents and humor.
It was from both, though, that my early appreciation for music was informed. Cast far and deep was the line from Disney. Fantasia' hooked me, and I've wiggled and flopped around ever since, unable---and unwilling---to escape its compelling allure. It's a DVD I have on at least three times a year. Warner Brothers didn't produce an epically fantastic animated feature of their own, but it did manage an armful of Silly Symphonies'. I know them all, and still sing along with Elmer Fudd when he belts out the edict to KILL THE WABBIT!!!'. It entertained my family all my life, from my early days as a boy soprano all the way to now in my present (and professor-seducing) bass-baritone voice. I don't think I'd have threatened James Earl Jones' career, but my current kill the wabbit!' is no less entertaining than it ever was.
I spotted a bunny in the barn after my Second Grade year had concluded the day before, and chased it from one end to the other while singing Wagnerian country music, much to the delight and consternation of my Pa.
"Whoa, there; are you trying to `kill the wabbit' or wake the dead relatives? How about you let Barni spot the bunny and later, swoop down from the rafters and feast on it?"
"DADDY, I'm a brave hunter and a hunting brave! All game is fair game! You told me that! And I'm EIGHT now! I can run faster than some rabbit! Faster than some barn owl can fly to catch it!"
"Heh....SURE you can, Kiddo. You'd better get runnin' if you're gonna do that."
"No.....later. I think I want a nap first. I've put in a long day already."
"The time on my watch says the day is also Eight. 8:00AM, actually. That's a `full day' for you?"
"Well, YEAH! Do you need a nap, too, Daddy?"
"I always need a nap, Jeffrey. The older a farmer gets, the more a night's sleep seems like only a nap, and a nap is just a fantasy. Wanna go stretch out on some straw in the loft? I think you and I could probably benefit from fifteen minutes of shut-eye. Just keep this between us men, though. Your Ma has this funny idea that if she's awake, so are all three thousand acres and every living thing on them."
"Daddy, maybe Mommy can come up to they hayloft with us and take a nap, too!"
"Ummm.....the last time your Ma and I went up to the hayloft to take a nap, two wonderful, talented, silly and almost-tireless cells joined us on the way back down, and nine months and billions more cells later, here you are. As much as I'd like four boys or ten, your Ma gets a say about that."
"So ask her! I'd like a little brother, too, you know! At least one!"
"Tell you what.....YOU convince her for me. I don't have to be convinced."
"Yaaawwwwnnnnn.....okay, I will! Oh! After the nap, Daddy; can we go for a ride and see the geese, too?!"
"Not today, Kiddo. A farmer never gets both a nap and a ride on the same day. You'll realize that soon enough."
"Well, as long as I don't have to realize that today, that's okay."
"Yes it is, Jozef-Jeffrey-Kiddo; that's entirely okay. May you always hope to be the one farmer in History who can have both. Let's go up before your Ma realizes we're not actually working for a living, if only for fifteen minutes or so."
"Okay, Daddy! Race you up!"
"No race, Son; I can keep up with you about as well as you can with that bunny."
Oh god, what I'd give for just one more nap, Daddy; one more ride. One more day working with you. All this land, everything I have, for one more moment of time with you in it.
Marc and I continued our start-each-day embrace and conversation for only a moment longer, and I realized I was running late for work. The commute is short, but so is my memory when my man is holding me in his arms while his head is on my chest.
"Babe, I know you have work to do here today. I don't want to interrupt you from it. If it'd work better, I can come back here later this evening. I want---need---to talk with you about what the school, my editor and the publisher all want."
"I'm looking forward to hearing about that, as well as what YOU want, Marc."
"Most of what I want---and need---is currently pressed up against me."
Well, that pretty much melted me right down. From anyone else, something like that would've just been sweet talk from a smooth talker, but I knew Marc meant it. In our brief time together, we spoke volumes with each other, but communicated entire libraries of thoughts and emotions with just the right glance or touch here and there, once or twice, now and again. When Marc held me at night, it wasn't some desperate, controlling manipulation by a tourist in town, one month and back out the next, needing to get his rocks off inside an eventual college freshman who can throw a good fuck (although he actually throws them excellently).
"Marc. Damn. Thanks for that. I want to be what you want. Since you offered, yeah, I would like to see you again later this afternoon or evening. There's a mountain of work here today. I am also leaving town Thursday for an overnight trip to Missoula, and although Aleksy can prep the fields today for Winter wheat himself, that doesn't mean he should have to do that. We'll do the bank stuff this morning, then come back here and do farmer stuff, and if it works for you, I'll be back in town by 6."
"That's perfect.....just like this teen farm boy ass in my hands. But I digress....."
"You know, that same ass likes being held by hyper-strong middle-aged professor hands."
"`MIDDLE-AGED'??? You take that back right now!"
"Sorry.....I meant....."
"I would hope you are!"
".....Boomer....."
Marc gripped my ass tightly and pulled me against him even more, though I wondered how that could be possible. He growled against my neck, and I felt a zap of electricity course through my entire body. It was the tender, lingering kiss that followed, though, which washed through me with even more love. This man who has given me spectacular highs, racing my spirit to the highest peaks of the Judith Mountain Range and just a few feet higher, can bring me slowly back down with a peace, comfort and assurance the United Nations could only dream of. There is a candor of kindness here. We barely know each other, but we want each other. Marc and I share our own vulnerabilities and insecurities, our painful histories and our still-youthful optimistic futures.
We would eventually need to end our embrace that morning, if only for practical reasons; but we never really let go of each other. It took us seventeen years to navigate our lives apart so we could finally meet and be together. A few hours of the work completed---or continued---that we were born to do, and we'd wind right back up here; ass in hands, lips on neck, and our hearts nearly bursting out of our chests to be with each other, too. Name me a better way to begin a day, and then end it. Actually, don't; there's no competition. We qualified our love, and don't waste too much time quantifying it. Farmers and historians have no time to waste; not even for mushy stuff.
"Babe, if you're okay with it, I'll get the stuff to make Seafood Louis salads, and a fresh sourdough French loaf for garlic bread. We're supposed to have hot weather this afternoon."
"I suspect my man, my mom and my future sister-in-law are in collusion to destroy my teenaged metabolism."
"Oh, I wouldn't say `destroy'.....it's a guilty pleasure, at least on my part. You get the cutest look on your face when you're eating something you like. Your metabolism isn't going anywhere for a long, long time. Neither are you.....just so we're clear on that particular issue....."
It's the little comments like that.....well, you get it.....they break my resolve to have no time for mushy stuff. One last squeeze and we separated so Marc could get dressed. If there was any regret in my mornings, it's that Marc gets dressed. I don't mean to sound so hyper-sexed all the time. I don't think most people get hyper-sexed when they see the Statue Of David, either. A work of art is born to be appreciated, and I sure appreciate David and Marc----preferably without even woven fabric to obstruct the view.
I gave that perfect, fur-enshrouded ass a love tap and left the room to go downstairs. I leave one perfect sight for another perfect aroma, this one of coffee. Must be my Ma was awake even before I was. When I reached the bottom stair, though, I saw her bedroom door was closed. So: not my Ma. I could hear the faint but lyrical voice of Eva, humming to herself in the kitchen. Well, if you're going to `Common Grounds' without having to leave the house, you've truly become a lucky person.
"Good MORNING, Jozef! You've risen, so are you ready to shine?! I have raspberry-cream cheese muffins about to come out, and coffee all ready to pour!"
"My gosh. Am I still asleep and dreaming? Who is this wizard before me?!"
I gave Eva a hug and we both laughed as quietly as we could. We were joined by my big brother, who walked over and hugged us both.
"Of course you're baking, Eva; and of course you're ready to eat, Little Brother. I've yet to be surprised this morning. Where's your man?"
"Getting dressed. He wants to get started early on something book-related. Oh---I'm joining him for dinner this evening. I'll stay in town. Until then, I'm here to work on whatever, at least until we go to the bank."
"Okay. We need to survey the rest of the fences today. That'll take us until Noon. Then we need to count our seed sacks and get more if necessary. I already fired up the planter; it works fine. I have more diesel being delivered this afternoon. I think we should talk about doing a buried 500 gallon tank with a new pump. I think we should relocate that away from the corral. The animals don't need to breathe all that. I'm thinking out behind the equipment shed."
"Sounds good.....we can have the electricity run to the site of the new pump, and get the house water heater replaced or repaired at the same time. What else needs some juice?"
"I'd like the service panel in the barn to be upgraded to 100 amps, and from fuses to breakers. You keep talking about building your own apartment in there, and now I hear you want a gym in there, too? I think higher-illumination LEDs from one end of the barn to the other, including up in the loft."
"Since you're spending our children's inheritance, do the equipment barn and the two sheds, too?"
"Yes. And, since we might as well spend their children's inheritance for them, I'm thinking a generator. One big enough to run at least lights for everything, and the furnace for the house. And those 500 gallons of diesel #2 can heat the house, though that's a long line to run from the equipment barn to here......"
So. Brothers and business partners, discussing wants and needs. A disagreement could and would come up, but if I could count on anything, it's that my big brother and co-farmer would have insights to consider alongside my own. Maybe the reverse could also be true, once or twice. I had my youth that afforded me little wisdom, but in seventeen years, I gained a lot of knowledge. Aleksy had a wisdom uncannily close to our Pa's, and his logic and reason were a comfort to me. Truly. I missed Dad, some days achingly. It was occasionally on those days that I'd hear Aleksy say a `Ned-ism', and their voices were so similar, I had to turn my head to make sure I was listening to my brother. Aleksy was gone for the past ten years, all of which I had with Dad. In that time, they both grew up a little, I guess. Actually, all three of us did; and here we are.
As we finished the discussion about service panels, stepping down 480 volts to 240 and 100 amps each in the barn and the house, Eva rolled her eyes and sighed with relief when Mom walked into the kitchen.
"Marie! FINALLY! Save me from Team W boys who talk about all this electricity stuff!"
"Eva, the quickest way to stop a Team W boy from talking is to give him something to eat. That'll keep his mouth occupied. Oh, muffins! Aren't you just the best daughter-in-law!"
Mom wandered over to the oven to see the muffins cooling in their tin. Aleksy, Eva and I looked at each other with unspoken but not unseen discomfort. Daughter-in-law'. Well, YEAH, but there's that technical aspect of the title, not yet determined or resolved. It seemed Mom didn't realize what she had said, since she didn't turn around to acknowledge it. There was also the possibility that she was being just a little passive-aggressive, hinting not at all subtlely that it was time for Aleksy to seal the deal', so to speak. I know there were some as-yet unanswered questions that only Father Tim could answer, at least in our town. I nudged the toe of my shoe against Aleksy's and looked at him pointedly.
"Soooo.....you have another errand in town today, right, Big Brother?"
"Oh. THAT one. Um, yeah.....thanks for reminding me.....yeah, I'll get right on that....."
Mom and Eva were not part of the conversation my brother and I had about him marrying Eva with a church Mass and blessing. It was important to him, as much for the honor of being Eva's man as much as for the protections it offered them both, legally. A few signatures on a piece of parchment didn't signify the love they had for each other, and not for just a few years already. There was no ceremony to bestow love on each other. It was public recognition of the union. I've long said that the best theater are weddings and funerals; they're for the people witnessing them both, and really unbearable music for each. Ugh. Spare me. When comes the time I marry, I will be merely telling Marc loudly enough for others present to hear what he will have known well already, and repeated often throughout each day. A glance here, a touch there; once or twice, now and again, and for each of them, with bells ringing and angels singing----if only for us to hear.
We sat for coffee, and Eva brought four plates of muffins to the table, complete with a pat of butter on each. While we rolled our eyes and groaned our pleasure, we talked about our day's plans. It was the bank visit that was at the forefront for all of us, but Marc and Eva declined attendance, stating previous obligations. I think if we could have all been there, it would've been a show of Team W force, and give bank folk opportunity to see two new faces associated with the team. Not associated'; my mistake. Two new team members'. Still, timing is everything; planting and harvesting, breeding and birthing, buying and selling, muffins and coffee.
Eva had phone calls to make, including one to Lyle Connor. I was still amazed at the kindness he offered and the forgiveness he sought, but not surprised, really. This is what folks do for each other here; anything they can. Mr Connor wanted absolution on behalf of his son, Junior. Maybe he didn't expect Eva to be able to forgive his son. Maybe he just wanted Eva to be a success in ways her ex-husband could only dream of. Maybe Lyle Connor was just a good guy, with pages of bullet points that spoke of his qualities.
Marc joined us in the kitchen, stretching one of my new t shirts across muscular topography that would make the Rocky Mountains look like chiffon velvet. He smiled his greeting, echoed by the rest of us, while he got his own pre-dawn treat and sat next to Mom. ExCUSE me, Mister Man; I'm over HERE. Oh, well. I was fine with him sitting by Mom, or sitting by anyone else; as long as he slept by me. Okay, was that a little awkward, or is it just me....?
Aleksy had his phone out, and I could see that he was checking in his Contacts to see if he had Father Tim's phone number. Once he found it, he moved back to the rest of the conversation.
"Mom, I need to get your youngest....."
".....and `Favorite'....."
"Shut up, You. Your part is silent, Little Toad. ANYWAY.....I need `this one' to help me with something. Half hour. We can do it after the bank."
"Okay, I'll go to the store. Any last-minute additions to the list?"
I had a big bite of muffin in my mouth, but that didn't stop this W Boy from some semblance of speech.
"Not condoms....."
Aleksy laughed, but coughed to cover it up. His face was immediately red. He kicked me under the table. Both Mom and Eva just looked at us and then at each other.
"What did he say?"
"You tell me, Marie; I don't speak `Kiddo-ese'!"
"NO! `NOT KIDDO!'"
We all laughed and concluded our agenda, ate another muffin each, drank more coffee and rose to get busy. Marc walked outside with me on the way to his truck.
"Babe, your family are so wonderful....."
"YOUR family are so wonderful. Including the two who aren't here."
"Ahh.....so nice. Thank you for that. I truly feel like I'm part of this, of you."
"How `bout later you get part of you in me?"
"Do you ever think about anything else??"
"My steer. My tiny dog. Oh, my horse.....the new rooster.....diesel fuel oil tanks....."
"That answers my question. Now in answer to YOUR question: yes. HECK, yes. I was holding it about an hour ago. A few hours from now, I'm gonna wanna do more with it."
"Actually, I was holding it.....while you were sleeping."
"You were holding your ass while I was sleeping?"
"No, I was holding your.....wait.....what were you talking about holding?"
"The thing I'm gonna get in later."
"Oh. `Possible'."
"`Possible'? It's only possible now?"
"Yeah. You know. When I'm in the shower, I start at my head and wash down as far as possible, and then I wash from my feet up as far as possible. Then I wash `Possible'."
"HAHAHAHAHA!!!!! C'mere, You. Give your man a kiss. He needs to get going and put together something that'll make sense to you, the school, the editor and the publisher."
"All I need to make sense of is how I can keep you happy while you satisfy your scholarly pursuits."
"You did that a few Sundays ago, along Highway 87 at Tessie Potter's place."
"Well, look at you! You remembered the location and the name!"
"That's what I've studied for decades. Then I talk about it."
Marc leaned forward and whispered in my ear.
"You are, without a doubt, the strongest argument for the existence of a deity. There's no way you could just.....'be' all of who and what you are as a result of billions of years and entropy."
Then he whispered even more quietly all the things he planned to do to and with me later in the evening, some of which I'm fairly certain were still illegal in Cameroon, Burkina Faso and Alabama. What fun is a law if you can't break it? Marc apparently wanted to break a record, not so much a law. I was just thinking about the resulting mess.
We shared a kiss that wasn't really a new one; it was just the continuation of our first, which had a few rest breaks along the way from a previous Sunday. We embraced, too. His chest, back and arms were so amazing, and as far as I was concerned, that t shirt would never look or feel as good on me after that morning. It was his. A fair trade, after all; I had his underwear, and my brother had worn it. Ummm.....was that also awkward? A few moments later, we backed up from each other so Marc could get in his truck and drive into town. Eva came running out of the house, calling Marc's name. She asked for a ride to `Common Grounds'. Her car was still at the house, but last night, she'd locked her keys inside after getting out her notary public stuff. Eva had another set of keys at work, and would get Kim or K to drive her back to the farm later. Of course, Marc was gallant and held the passenger door open for her.
"Your chariot, M'Lady."
Eva cooed and called back at Aleksy, who was standing at the kitchen door, observing us.
"`Bye, Aleksy! Love you!"
"Love you too, Eva!"
And they did. Obviously. A touch here, a glance there, for them, too. But it was the first time I'd heard them say it. Yeah, gotta get Aleksy to the church on time today so they can both get to the church on time later. Sooner is better than later. I knew how much Aleksy wanted to do this right, to make it perfect for Eva, her second time around. Aleksy and Lyle Connor weren't so different, really; they each wanted Eva to smile and sigh with relief, if she did nothing else, ever. The fact she was doing everything else was just butter on fresh-from-the-oven raspberry and cream cheese muffins.
My brother's and my mates took off up the drive to the gravel county road. Marc beeped his horn once and tapped the brakes twice, one more hug and a kiss until we saw each other later. Aleksy had walked out to the barnyard to join me.
"So. Your steer first, I'm sure. I'll take care of the chickens. Dogs then horses?"
"Yeah, that's good. Soooo.....Eva's muffins were perfect, but they're kind of an appetizer for me, to be honest....."
"Same. I pulled some frozen tater tot casserole out and already parked it in the oven. One hour and we can go for Round Two."
"Heck, yeah. Yum. I'm gonna eat well today! Marc is making a seafood salad for dinner. Gonna be hot today, although that house stays cool, due to the huge, old trees around it."
"We'll have a whole flock of cold chicken parts to enjoy out here. Are you staying in town tonight?"
"Yeah. I need to get started on Tommy and K's wedding plan. Well, my part of it, anyway. Tommy wants me to be the best man, and K wants me to be her gentleman of honor. That'll be interesting. The part that sucks: I can't legally witness the wedding. I'm not eighteen."
"That's just silly. People the age of sixteen can marry legally in this state, but you can't witness it?"
"Nope. And they both asked me to officiate, but I can't do that, either. Same restriction."
"Hmmm.....can I offer an idea?"
"Sure, of course."
"You walk them both down the aisle. Get a dispensation for Trace to do the legal part, but you do the talking before hand. No one can say better than you the importance of the marriage of two kids who are your best friends. Then Trace incants whatever, the document is signed, and Tommy and K become Tommy and K, 2.0."
"You're fuckin' brilliant!"
I threw my arms around Aleksy's neck, and he held me close. We kept the embrace. It felt right and comfortable to be intimate with my brother, to share a moment of joy for our friends and business partners.
"You know, Jozef....."
"Uh-uh! YOU FIRST! We're going last!"
"Sooooo.....I have an idea about that, too....."
"Oh? This oughtta be good....."
"It is. I think so. I think you will, too."
"Well??"
"Double-Mint Gum. `Double your pleasure, double your fun'. It was a tv commercial for minty chewing gum."
"Still don't get this.....sorry....."
"My mistake.....I forgot you were in the remedial classroom during first period. Double Wedding, Little Brother. You and me, Marc and Eva."
"I'm.....gonna marry you, and Marc is gonna marry Eva?"
"You're an idiot."
"`A double wedding'.....really.....I like this, actually. Do you think Eva will like it? I think Marc wants to just do something quiet, like make commitments by a quiet waterfall or some gay shit like that."
"I like that idea. I want to tell you, though, why this crossed my mind."
"Mom....."
"Yeah. We can't waste time to create good memories for her to enjoy as long as she can have them."
"That's a good idea."
"Not a priority right now, but someday. Today, though; come with me to St Leo's. You're MY best man, too; whether you sign something or not. The woman I love and the brother I love, right with me."
"Big Brother, I'm honored----truly ready-to-cry honored----but again, I can't sign anything. You know who can, though? Dan. You two have been tight your entire lives. I'm not trying to get out of this; not at all. I'm just thinking about.....hell, I don't know what I'm just thinking about, but I'm sure it's erudite and profound....."
"If only in YOUR mind....look, I get your logic for having Dan be my best man, and of course you'd say something so altruistic and magnanimous, because that's who and what you are. You're right. But now what do I do with you?"
"Flower boy and ring-bearer, Aleksy."
"How about you walk ME down the aisle, then join Mom in the pew?"
"I'm gonna walk down a few aisles, I think."
"Oh, yeah. Are you seeing the big picture here?"
"Is that another TV commercial?"
"Jesus, give me strength.....NO. Are you not seeing how everything going on here this Summer, or almost everyone, orbits around you?"
".....no....."
"Every person here today had only one common denominator. Jozef W. I returned for a funeral and stayed for a business partnership. With you. That reunited Eva and me. Tommy and Kristi got together. Because you're all each other's best friends. Again, that's you. You devise a plan that saves Jon and Kelly from disaster and financial failure. That brings the additional bonus of Patty getting new tenants for a farm we didn't even know was connected with us. You rescue some lost tourist on a highway who, incredibly, becomes someone each of us feel like we've already known all our lives, and who prevents another tragedy from continuing, just because you wanted to take Marc to the Fair, and Junior was unfortunate to allow himself to be quite painfully in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dad dies, but because you step in and step up immediately, Mom can grieve her husband while you basically run this entire operation. At the age of seventeen. There are no more 'teams' on this land. No more Team W. No more Team Sanger. No more Tom and K. No more Eva and Me. No more Lola Cola and Pups, and then Max. Each of us, all of us, are on Team Jozef. So now you see."
Aleksy held my face in his hands and moved his forehead against mine. It was not fast, it wasn't slow; it wasn't pressured and it wasn't light. It was just `I love you and I'm glad we're blood'. I was close with him; close again after eight or nine years of painful separation, during which I felt abandoned by two brothers and parents who would not talk to me. Through emails and phone calls, Aleksy and I navigated that, and evolved even closer. I shared with him what I was doing on the farm, and he'd tell me his own experiences from ten years earlier, as well as his six years of college in Agriculture. We knew many of the same things from farming Farm W, but learned them differently. Now we could put all that experience into a joint practice. Maybe absence can make the heart grow fonder, but it certainly can make Farm W expand and become more productive, with brothers and business partners together planting knowledge and harvesting wisdom. Along the way, we were growing a family our homesteading great-great-greats could never have imagined possible.
Our family. Many good people, all loving each other, beneath more than a few different surnames, but within one family. Until July, the only family and future I really felt I had confidently was Mom, Dad and me. Time will reduce that confidence as she takes more of us, and it's a battle we'll never win. We can only balance Time's Arrow aimed at each of us with our future generations to, still and yet still more, be just more crops in rotation. Wheat, Rye, Oats, Team Jozef.
You got me here, Dad. I enjoyed our rides. I will remember them and you forever. Now, though.....I don't have enough days in a month for all the rides I can have with these people who crowd in my heart, but I'll be damned if I'm not gonna get each of 'em out on horses, just like you and I did. And someday.....it'll be me and Ned 2.0, your grandson. The first, if I have my way, of a house full of grandkids on Farm and Team Jozef.
We'll figure it out.